


Selfish

by nowherenew



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Sex, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Humor, M/M, Referenced Sex, Sexual References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowherenew/pseuds/nowherenew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is selfish in bed. Derek considers how and why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selfish

Stiles is selfish in bed.

It's not intentional; he's a teenage boy, not an asshole. Derek, for the most part, understands Stiles' selfishness. Before they started their little whatever-this-is, Stiles only needed to worry about his own sexual needs. Derek knows this on several levels. First, Stiles is a human teenager who--until recently--had no sexual partner, ergo his sexual needs were taken care of through masturbation. Secondly, Derek watched on many occasions from a safe distance when Stiles masturbated. At the time, he told himself it was to make sure nothing attacked Stiles when he was most vulnerable. Now, Derek knows he was just pining for the boy and invading his privacy.

Stiles doesn't need to know about that particular habit of Derek's.

These excuses--they _are_ excuses, excuses Derek is making for Stiles, no matter how he tries to conceal that fact--do not change the fact that Stiles is an inconsiderate mate.

Derek loves Stiles with an Earth-shattering, uncontrollable strength. He would truly do anything for his mate, no questions asked. Stiles is an extremely responsive sexual partner, which Derek appreciates wholeheartedly. Stiles makes the most delightful noises when he and Derek are in bed. He's shockingly flexible, for a human, and Derek doesn't think that's an issue at all, either. Stiles opens up for Derek with every part of himself, be it his thighs, mouth or heart. Derek cannot easily accept the suggestion that Stiles has failings. 

Stiles' largest problem is that he is so reactive that he is not at all proactive. He never initiates anything, save maybe for handholding (an act Derek refuses to partake in whilst in public) and cuddling (which Derek has absolutely no thoughts on, and certainly no fondness or desire for, no _sir_ ). He initiates kisses, but never goes any further than a simple peck unless Derek pushes onward with teeth and tongue.

Derek knows that this behavior is due to a complete lack of previous experience in a sexual relationship. Knowing why, however, is not quite enough to satisfy him. He wants Stiles to reciprocate, to challenge him, to do _anything_ besides lie in bed and arch into Derek's touch, curl into Derek's kisses, and allow Derek to take the reins entirely.

This selfishness is not deliberate, but it's making Derek crazy.

Stiles is lying in bed and studying when Derek climbs through the window. He glances over, a smile creeping over his face, and shuts his chemistry textbook. He moves to make room for Derek on his bed, but Derek holds up a hand. "Wait. I'm here to talk, this time."

"Talking? Uh-oh," Stiles says, blinking in a way that makes him look almost as dumb as Scott. "Do I smell? I showered after practice, you know. I'm not being too clingy, am I? Wait, wait, wait. Is this a bad talk or a good talk? Because, you know, I'm not so big on the bad--oh, and there's that look on your face that's telling me you don't have that much patience. Right. Shutting up." He glances at his knees, cheeks pink, and tightens his grip on his duvet.

Derek shakes his head, frowning. "It'll never cease to amaze me, just how much you can speak in one breath." He grabs Stiles' desk chair and sits down in it gingerly, trying to ignore the heady scent of his mate's living space. "I want to talk about your habits when we have sex," he says, looking at Stiles intently and wishing Stiles would look up and meet his eyes.

Stiles' mouth drops open, and he does match Derek's gaze, staring with wide eyes. "What?!" His voice cracks violently, and Derek raises an eyebrow. "Dude, you can't just... _Derek_! So awkward! Do you have to say it like that?"

"It's a conversation I believe we need to have," Derek says gruffly. He leans forward a bit, frowning. "So you are going to listen to what I have to say."

Stiles pouts, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you really pulling the alpha card on me? Just because you all think I'm pack--"

"You are pack."

"Right, sure, whatever. Just because I'm pack, I don't necessarily have that weird instinctual need to please you every second of the day--"

"That is actually what I came to talk about." Derek's gaze hardens, his tone flat.

"What?" Stiles looks appalled. "Wait, you mean about the sex?" He shakes his head, fidgeting. "Derek, you always come. Always. Most of the time, you come _inside_ me and it kind of feels nasty, to be honest."

"The problem isn't whether or not I'm having orgasms," Derek murmurs, scratching an itchy spot in his stubbled jaw and pointedly ignoring Stiles' loud groan and complaints of how awkward this is. He glares at Stiles, demanding silence and attention with only his face. When he gets it, he continues. "The problem is your behavior in bed."

Stiles stares, jaw dropping again. It's kind of frustrating that his expressions are becoming increasingly Scott-like (i.e., devoid of intellect). It's also eerie that Stiles seems to emulate Scott when he's being stupid. "What do you--oh, _Christ_ , Derek, is this about that one time when I told you it was gross to smell the skin on my--"

"Stiles, please shut up and listen to me," Derek growls, and he can almost smell Stiles deciding whether or not to protest his repeated interruptions. He sighs and pouts, though, so Derek assumes it is safe to continue. "When we have sex, you do not take initiative."

Stiles' eyebrows fly towards his hairline, and Derek frowns even deeper. "So that's it?" He starts to chuckle softly. "Wow, have I been wrong about you."

"What?" Derek's brows can't really furrow anymore, so he just hardens his gaze again. "What are you talking about? This isn't funny," he snarls, feeling as though he's missed something absolutely crucial.

"Dude, you're the _alpha_. I thought you'd want me to, you know. Submit entirely. Or something." Stiles smiles widely, and Derek tilts his head, utterly confused. "Also, I was pretty nervous that I'd get maimed if I moved too much when we do it. Didn't want to wake the beast, you know." He flicks his hand, shrugging. "Especially after--"

"I have never _actually_ turned while having sex with you," Derek mutters, trying to even his breaths.

"Hey, when I see red eyes and fangs, I'm going to remember that," Stiles counters, holding up his hands. "Your ears weren't pointy, but I know a transformation when I see one, thanks. I've been doing this for a while now." Derek looks away instead of arguing further, clutching the arms of his chair tightly. "Hey, dude, it's totally fine. I'm over that. I just didn't want to risk it again--"

"So you decide to stop doing anything in bed without being prompted?" Derek scowls, his frustration returning immediately. 

"Would you stop interrupting me?! Jesus, Derek, you have worse manners than Scott," Stiles exclaims, exasperated. "I get it, okay, I'm not assertive enough, whatever." He rolls his eyes. "You know, you were the one who told me about alphas and their mates. How it was dangerous for a mate, especially a human."

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Derek says quietly, his eyebrows raising. "Are you afraid?" He rolls the chair away from the bed, listening for Stiles' heartbeat. "Are you afraid of--I won't hurt you," he proclaims with conviction, nodding sincerely. "Ever."

Stiles shakes his head, and Derek can feel his heart pounding quicker than usual before he even starts speaking. "Derek, I'm not afraid of you. Well, maybe I am, but I don't actually think you'd hurt me. I'm just," he shrugs again, looking at his ceiling as though it holds the words he's looking for, "kind of a coward, I guess."

"You're not."

"Thanks for saying so, but--"

"You're not a coward."

Stiles looks at Derek, brown eyes narrowed slightly. "Right. Okay. So is that all? You want me to be more proactive in sex?"

Derek nods. "Yes."

"These talks would be a lot easier if you weren't allergic to feelings, you know."

Derek grunts, noncommittally indignant, and watches Stiles stand from his bed. He opens his mouth to ask what Stiles is doing, and his tongue goes dry when he sees Stiles stripping out of his clothes. "Stiles," he rasps, throat suddenly arid and itchy.

Stiles gets to work removing his textbooks from his bed, piling them messily on the desk. He opens the drawer of his nightstand, setting the lube and a condom packet on the surface of the end table. "I was thinking I could top this time," he grins, and Derek knows he's made the best mistake of his life by having this talk.


End file.
